


Boy Next Door

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Police, Bad Dirty Talk, Bottom Credence Barebone, Come Marking, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Yoga, graves just sucks at it, irish!graves, size queen Graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Officer Graves has a late night visitor.Offering medical assistance goes awry.[http://elisebazinga.tumblr.com/post/155356165192/]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purple_satan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_satan/gifts), [brittlelimbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittlelimbs/gifts), [yogurtgun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yogurtgun/gifts), [Hush_My_Darling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hush_My_Darling/gifts), [AuroraBlix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraBlix/gifts), [Nevospitanniy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevospitanniy/gifts).



> so due to the prodding of a certain SOMEONE, make that several, in the gradence discord chat, this is now even longer than 2k of sin.  
> but THIS IS IT.  
> also the first half is shitty present tense and iDK WTF happened to the second half. sorry.

The summer nights have started to get down to an uncomfortable and somewhat chilly fifty degrees, and fall could probably be called just around the corner, but Credence doesn’t care.

He’s going to crawl out of bed and out the window and across the yard to go sneak a look at his handsome neighbor Mister Graves if it kills him.

One day, if he gets caught staring it just might.

So far, he’s been lucky.

The best night of all was when he came over and looked in the window to see the man stretched out in his living room atop a turquoise mat, for yoga, shifting back on his knees, not to do a push up, but some kind of vee shape with his body.

His naked body.

Credence had almost run home to jump back in bed to take care of the lightning fast erection he got from that.

Tonight the man is just in his kitchen, getting a drink from the steaming coffee pot sitting directly on a burner, and he leans back to twist neck side to side, and Credence bites and licks at his lips, imagining how nice it might feel if he could give the man a hands on massage, or maybe just kiss the sore muscles better.

The man started to turn away from his living room, towards the window, and Credence nearly falls over, backing away from the window so fast his knees ache when he lands on the grass, and adrenaline floods his veins, all he knows now is _run_.

*

Percival hears something like a slight crash, too loud to be the wind at the trash cans again, and he sighs, setting down his half empty coffee mug before heading towards the front door, intent on chasing off one of the three wild neighborhood cats he’s spotted different days of the week.

He yanks open his front door to find a lanky dark haired boy sprawled over his front lawn, just in the midst of getting back up to his feet.

“Oi. What are you doing?”

It’s only half past ten, but still, a bit late for visitors, or a walk of the dog, and there’s no dog to be seen.

“Uh, tripped. Sorry.”

Percival blinks at the boy, now back on his feet with a wince, and probably has got a split lip and maybe a sprained wrist to boot,

“Mhm, okay. You’re bleeding all over my yard.”

The boy slaps a hand to his face, and his eyes widen as he takes in the sight of his own blood on his palm.

“Shit.”

Percival takes a step closer, and the boy shrinks back, lips both red now,

“Why don’t you step inside, I’ll get ya a cloth for that.”

The boy looks about five seconds away from bolting, when Percival smiles,

“Please? Don’t make me send you home lookin’ like that.”

Finally, he nods, and then slides closer, one step at a time, until he’s over the threshold and Percival can close the door behind him. It’s too chilly to leave the door wide on a night like this.

“What’s your name?”

He pours another mug of coffee and then a draws a glass of water for the boy, before passing it and a wet rag over, and the boy accepts both easily, pressing the rag to his mouth, his words coming out mumbled,

“Credence.”

Percival raises his mug in a mock salute,

“Nice to meet ya. I’m Percival Graves.”

“I know.”

He blinks over at the boy,

“Oh? How’s that then?”

The boy’s cheeks are turning pink, and he drops the rag to gulp down half the water in one go.

“We accidentally get your mail sometimes, the post office must be kinda dumb still about your number. Confusing Lane and Court.”

It was part of why moving was a bitch, Percival could agree.

“So what are you doing out so late?”

The boy nearly chokes on his last sip of water, and Percival reaches over to clap him smartly on the back, almost feeling the knobs of his spine through his shirt. He’s a slip of a thing. Probably about sixteen or so.

Kinda pretty, if he’s honest with himself.

“I got lost.”

He cocks a brow at the boy,

“Where were ya heading from?”

The boy can’t meet his eyes, and he tastes a lie before the still bleeding lips part,

“The park.”

“Ah. Nice place for a walk. Bit cold.”

Credence ducks his head and nods.

He’s only wearing a tee shirt and tan sweat pants. Probably freezing.

“You want some coffee?”

He jerks a thumb towards the stove, and the boy shakes his head.

“Oh no thank you Mister Graves. I have church in the morning. I’d be up all night.”

Percival curses himself for the line of thought that leads to, and instead downs the rest of his own coffee, relishing the way it burns his throat.

“What church do you go to?”

The blink-blink of the boy’s eye makes him wonder if he thought that a stupid question.

“Church of Christ Mister Graves. It’s _the_ church.”

“Oh. I see. They’re the Christ-y-est of them all right?”

He bites his lip to keep from laughing, because it’s a bit rude, but he notices how the boy’s eyes glaze down to follow the movement.

Christ indeed.

“Yeah. Thank you, I think I should be getting home.”

Percival nods, and takes the empty glass from the boy’s hand, before nodding to his wrist.

“Everythin’ all right there? No pain, no swelling?”

Credence holds it up, as if he could determine just from a look and shrugs.

“I think it’ll be ok if I try not to put a lot of weight on it.”

Percival barely resists a quip about switching hands for when he’s in the shower, or whatever and clucks his tongue, setting his empty mug aside,

“Lemme see.”

The boy’s stock still, hands shaky just a bit, and Percival takes the probably injured wrist in hand gentle as he can, rubbing two fingers along the line of the main veins and then around back to check the bone and tendon.

Credence is breathing hard, and Percival tries not to think about putting his lips on the delicate skin covering the greenish tree that indicates blood in need of oxygen.

“Seems okay. Not broken. Just a bit tender. Want me to wrap it up for you? I have gauze…”

He lifts his eyes to meet the boys, and finds them as dark as the night sky, locked on his, lips parted.

“Please…”

Fuck kissing his wrist, he wants that pretty mouth.

Percival doesn’t think, he just reaches up with his other hand to stroke the back of the boy’s neck, feels the shudder of his body beneath the touch, and goes in for the kill.

The whimper that escapes the boy might be from the pain of pressure on his sore lower lip, or because Percival couldn’t resist worrying it a little with his teeth and soothing the burn with his tongue after.

“God…”

The boy breathes out the second he pulls back, leaning his forehead against the boy’s, wondering what in the goddamn hell he thinks he’s doing, until the good hand, the other hand, slim fingers and slight wrist, is pressing against his crotch, palming his half hard cock, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Something I’ve been dreaming of for days…”

Credence whispers and Percival decides then, okay, maybe he won’t send the boy home like that, all wordless sighs and wide eyes.

He’s going to take him upstairs.

Pulling the boy up into his arms like he weighs nothing is easy, because well frankly, _he weighs nothing_.

Credence meanwhile is kissing and mouthing with a touch of teeth at his neck, leaving amateur hickies that’ll fade before morning because he doesn’t know how much teeth to use, and Percival’s mind is just on repeat going, what the hell, and what the hell?

His hands under the boy’s thighs slid up to squeeze at his ass, and it’s a bit bony, but still a decent handful and the sounds Credence makes from that kind of touch should be illegal.

It’s nothing compared to the way he watches as Percival drops him unceremoniously on his bed and pulls back to shuck off his shirt, and he can’t help grinning down at him,

“Like what you see?”

Credence nods, licking his lips, and smirking a bit,

“Oh yeah. Yoga really does give a hell of a workout.”

Percival finds it a curiously specific compliment, but he’ll take it. Credence shifts out of his own shirt and is halfway through pushing down his pants when he glances over to cock a brow at him,

“Whoa now. Slow down baby.”

“But you took off your shirt…”

Percival grins back at him,

“Mhm okay you got me. Over eager.”

Credence actually clambers on top of him, and of course, being weightless almost, it’s quite like having a wisp of nothing, until the boy grinds down against his pants covered cock, and he’s biting back a groan, head pressed against the pillow.

“Fuck.”

The boy’s humming against his neck, pressing more of those not-quite hickies into his skin, and he’s tempted, so tempted to flip the boy on his back and show him how it’s really done.

So he does.

The boy gasps beneath him, and he smirks down at him before dipping in to bite and mouth at the boy’s chest, just to the left of one of his nipples, ensuring he’ll have a mark that lasts a few days, but won’t be visible to anyone.

Eventually he gets tired of just leaving marks and he reaches to stroke a hand over the boy’s cock, which is surprisingly impressive for his build, and almost enough to make him question ever letting the boy top.

But never mind about that.

“Mmm baby, do you want me to suck you off, and then you can do me?”

“Yes, please, ugh, I’m so close.”

Already?

Well.

Percival can’t hold back a small chuckle at that, and he continues to kiss down the boy’s stomach until he’s just teasing with his tongue, mouthing at the not so meaty inner thigh until the boy’s begging is painful to listen to.

The second he puts his lips on Credence’s cock, he’s arching up against him, trying to force himself deeper, and Percival is almost full on laughing now.

One hand on his thigh and an arm braced over his hips, the boy isn’t going anywhere, and he’s not going to throat fuck Percival if his life depended on it.

“Unnnngh Daddy.”

The term sends a sharp jolt of heat down his spine, and he’s instantly at full hardness, rutting against his own fucking sheets.

He hopes he can last long enough to have the boy’s pretty mouth on his own cock.

*

Credence is drowning in so much lust he’s pretty sure he’s going to hell first thing tomorrow when he crosses into church, but he honestly can’t find it in him to care.

He runs both hands through the man’s hair and sees stars when his legs finally give out and he’s coming with a low moan, and he can feel the man’s throat swallowing around him, lips tight and tongue relentless against the over sensitive underside of his cock.

He’s dead probably.

“Mmm how was that baby?”

The man let him call him daddy and he didn’t even freak out, not even a little. There might be sparks replacing the cells of Credence’s blood but he’s not sure.

“So good. Holy shit.”

The man bites him again, threatening to get him hard from just a touch, and then he’s being pulled overtop the man, as they swap positions.

“Your turn.”

The man, _Mister Graves,_ he remembers in a daze, is putting a hand in his hair, sort of roughly petting him, and nudging him down southward, past perfectly formed abs he’d love to worship with his tongue and a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, towards the mammoth cock hiding in his sweats.

Credence’s hands don’t quite shake on the waist band but they sure as hell do when the man’s cock springs free, and his eyes widen before he can stop them,

“Baby what are you so shocked about? You’ve got a fucking anaconda in between those skinny legs.”

He chokes on his own saliva and looks up at Mister Graves from beneath his lashes,

“Thanks daddy.”

“Okay that’s some good shit. But I’m gonna need that dirty mouth on me a-sap.”

Credence nods, and a second later he’s going to town, taking the cock as deep into his throat as he dares. He’s been practicing with bananas ever since the naked yoga incident and he just hopes it will be good enough.

There’s two hands in his hair now, and Mister Graves is seemingly trying to keep his hips still, but it’s okay, Credence is breathing steady through his nose and sucking hard, moving his tongue so fast it starts to go numb just as his jaw begins to ache.

“Oh baby, oh, that feels so good. Fuck yeah.”

He’s dying for it, thirsty to taste the man beyond the touch of pre come that was already slick on the head of his cock, and now Mister Graves is telling him to move back, off of him, and he’s pouting, trying to beg him to let him swallow him.

“No baby, I wanna see you covered in my come.”

Strong hands guide him back to lay on the sheets again, and Mister Graves is towering over him, hand working over himself at lightning speed, while the other braces himself on the back of the bed, and Credence shuts his eyes, and opens his mouth, praying for a miracle.

The first ropes land on his stomach and then another is wet on his chest, just shy of the bruises that he knows are forming from Mister Graves’ teeth and lips, and the last bits are blissfully on his face, on his mouth, his cheeks, and even in his hair probably.

“Oh god. Yes daddy. Thank you.”

He licks his lips first, and then brings a hand down his face, palm slick against his tongue.

“Holy shit. Can I keep you?”

Mister Graves has collapsed on the bed beside him, and seems just as blissed out as he does.

“I can’t stay, but I can come back tomorrow night?”

Mister Graves is chuckling,

“I shouldn’t let you, and I shouldn’t have done this. But god, you really know how to ask for what you can’t say with those eyes, you know that?”

Credence smiles to himself, and shrugs.

He always gets what he wants.

*

Percival sleeps in that morning because it’s Sunday, and he’s also just had the wildest night since he graduated college and had that threesome with his two lady roommates.

It’s long after noon when he finally crawls out of bed to start making some coffee, and he can’t even remember what time the boy scampered on home. Probably about when he passed out from exhaustion and felt the gentlest of forehead kisses.

Ridiculous.

He was being a complete idiot and prepared to risk his entire career and life for what, some scrap of nothing who was definitely underage and highly illegal.

But damn did he know how to suck a mean cock.

He was just empting the coffee pot into the sink, the grounds were always annoying to dispose of so he cheated, and he heard a knock on the front door.

No visitors expected.

Not until nighttime at least.

He looked down at himself, barely tugged on wife beater tank and grey sweats. Ok he needed a shower and to brush his teeth, but overall he was presentable.

“Hell-o…”

It was a neighborhood cat clutched in the skinny arms of Credence.

He looks up at Percival and smirks just slightly. He’s wearing some raggedy semblance of a suit, and mildly he remembers ‘church’ as for the reason.

“Hi Mister Graves. I found another piece of your mail with ours from yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it last night, I would have come by sooner.”

Percival is trying to wrap his head around that, which he knows is a goddamn lie, but he finds he really doesn’t care. It’s too early for this shit, but he’s actually pretty glad to see the kid. They need to talk.

“Come on in.”

Credence sets the cat down, who scampers off, and steps inside, hugging his arms around himself like he’s cold.

“Did you sleep well last night Mister Graves?”

Percival inhales deeply and shakes his head, pointing across the entryway towards the living room,

“Go take a seat kid.”

Credence does, but he actually looks more excited than nervous.

Why?

This is about to be an interrogation.

Percival might be the worst cop, but he’s gonna try and get back on track, right now.

*

Credence didn’t quite know what it was that made him drop everything the second he got home from worship, but there was also no reason to stick around and pretend he didn’t want to go see Mister Graves right now.

One of the three strays crossed his path on his way over, and he scooped it up into his arms, cooing slightly, and clicking his tongue, and it nuzzled against his hand.

When Mister Graves told him to go in and sit, he wondered if he was going to propose something like house rules, maybe he would have to always be naked when he was over.

Instead the man was sitting down across from him with a very serious expression, and no sign of interest.

Credence felt his heart start pounding long before the man opened his mouth.

“Credence, you realize I’m a cop right? You know what that means? I put people who take advantage of kids like you behind bars. You know that’s why this,” he gestures between Credence and himself, “Can’t happen again. It would be best to just put it out of your mind. And you should probably stop coming by.”

Credence gulps,

“You’re a cop… does that mean you carry handcuffs?”

Mister Graves blinks,

“Of course yeah, so?”

“Aren’t you gonna cuff me… daddy? Spank me? I’ve been very bad… obviously.”

Mister Graves’ puts a hand to his temple and groans aloud,

“Listen, you really shouldn’t talk like that, it’s very inappropriate. You’re what? Fifteen?”

Credence tries to bite down the wave of panic that’s still threatening to drown him, but he’s trying his best to keep this game in play,

“Nope. Seventeen.”

The lie is easy. He’s been sneaking into R rated movies for months now with his only two friends in the world, and he’s juuust tall enough they don’t question him.

Mister Graves isn’t buying it.

“Sixteen.”

Finally he nods. Relenting and surrendering because frankly, it’s _him_.

“See? This type of shit is still like… frowned upon.”

Credence sighs,

“But don’t you wanna spank me a little bit? Just a little?”

Mister Graves inhales sharply and gets to his feet, pacing a bit, before turning to look at him, dark eyes less serious and more possibly heading towards aroused.

“How did you know I did yoga?”

Credence gulps again.

He wasn’t prepared for a question that direct.

Oh, Mister Graves is good.

He eyes the muscles quite visible beneath the thin tank and tries to slow his breathing,

“I got a flier meant for you. Yoga classes at the gym.”

Mister Graves shakes his head, and Credence freezes.

“Nope. It’s literally my secret hobby. No one knows I do it. I go to the gym sure, but like, so do most of my fellow cops. C’mon kid. What’s really going on here? Have you been spying on me?”

Credence knows it shouldn’t but the accusation and the way Mister Graves’ voice lowers, maybe to be intimidating, only makes his cock harder and his hands shakier.

He wants to touch him, he wants _desperately_ to actually make a decent mark on his neck or shoulder, to mimic the very real trio of bruises that trail down his chest, and he spent almost five minutes caressing in the shower before church, after jerking off for another five.

“No…”

He lies, hoping that maybe just maybe, Mister Graves will punish him for it.

*

Percival isn’t sure what the fuck it is about this kid, but he just oozes sexual energy. He really does. It’s kinda annoying and very tempting.

He watches as the boy palms his chest, and his fingers press into three precise locations, and it’s with a jolt of heat that goes straight to his cock that he realizes that those are spots where he bit him last night.

This kid has been watching him. It’s the only explanation for the whole yoga bullshit.

Why is that so sexy?

The kid probably saw him naked that one night…

Shit.

He definitely did.

He sighs.

“You know what? You’re right. I do have handcuffs, and I need to use them on you.”

Credence’s eyes widen and he seems to light up like its fucking Christmas morning, and that’s how Percival knows he’s done for.

Gone around the bend.

He walks over and yanks the boy up by his arm and he can feel him trembling, and he just hopes it’s with arousal and not fear.

Upstairs he practically shoves the boy onto the bed, and growls at him to strip.

“Y-yes sir Mister Graves.”

Okay formality is nice and also very cute and possibly he’s being sassed but Percival just flat doesn’t care at this point.

His cuffs are clipped to his work pants which are of course hanging up in his closet, and when he returns with them to find the boy sitting in the lotus position on the bed, completely naked, he takes a deep breath, and tries to rationalize what he’s about to do.

Willingly, willingly, and also over eager.

That’s the kid.

He _wants_ this. Until he doesn’t, Percival is going to give in.

Credence bites his lip as he watches him apply the cuffs so he’s locked with his back against the head of the bed, thank god for the kinky asshole who designed the fucking bars, and Percival tries not to ogle him too much.

They just did unspeakable things less than twenty-four hours ago.

Why is he half hard already?

“Am I in trouble… daddy?”

Percival chokes on a laugh, and smoothes his face into a calm and somewhat stern expression,

“That’s Officer Daddy to you boy.”

Credence bites his lip so hard it might just bleed, and Percival decides he likes that, too much.

“Oooh yes okay Officer.”

He glances over at the boy, backing away to start peeling off his tank and pushing down his sweats,

“You enjoy this far too much for someone who should be straight laced.”

Credence doesn’t answer in so many words, just shrugs.

“Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to fuck you. You’re going to say ‘red’ if you want me to stop at any time. If we stop, I’m going to go shower, and you’re going to suck me off. Got it? Either way, I’m not touching your pretty cock.”

The whimper that escapes the boy’s throat goes right to his own cock, and its sweet torture for him, he knows it. But the boy nods. He understands. He’s in trouble, and he’s gonna like what he gets, because he asked for it.

It is rather painful to have to look at such a nice cock and have to follow his own rules, but he strokes himself instead, imagining just how tight and hot the boy’s going to feel around him, and it’s almost good enough.

He snags the bottle of lube from his bedside drawer and tosses a foil wrapped condom beside the boy’s right hip.

“Don’t think I’m anything but thoughtful.”

“But Officer, I’m a virgin. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Blink-blink of those eyes, and Percival is biting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning.

Fuck.

Okay.

“Don’t open your mouth again unless it’s to say ‘red’ or I tell you to suck my cock.”

Credence nods, and licks his lips, the minx.

Percival heaves a sigh and reaches for him, just shy of touching the boy’s balls and presses a slicked finger down his taint and circles the puckered hole beyond just to see Credence’s eyes roll back and his jaw fall slack.

He didn’t say anything about kisses being off the table… so he goes for it.

It’s like Percival has been dying for the taste of him all day, and he can’t help licking over the somewhat healed cut on his bottom lip from the night before.

The boy arches up against him and he has to move just in time to keep from allowing him to grind on his thigh.

“Ah ah ah, naughty.”

He nips at the boy’s neck, not quite threatening to leave a visible mark, but the shuddering gasp that escapes the boy, at the addition of a second finger to the one already pressed up to the knuckle is just delicious enough to persuade him to go back, and kiss those pretty lips one more time.

He hums into the kiss and licks into the boy’s mouth when he finally parts his own lips, and feels his cock starting to leak in earnest. The boy feels ready enough, so he pulls back to add more slick to himself, and shifts the boy’s legs to allow him to press closer, rubbing just the tip against his hole.

“How’s it feel, knowing you’re about to be fucked by the long dick of the law?”

It’s dumb, literally the cheesiest fucking thing he’s ever said during sex, but Credence groans and then yanks on the cuffs to try and shift closer, and he smirks.

“Good boy.”

Pushing inside, inch by inch, Percival starts to wonder if he’s made a huge mistake. Not in fucking the boy, not at all, but like pretending to be all high and mighty, when he feels like the second he’s fully seated he’s probably going to blow his load.

The boy can’t laugh at him, and considering how much he seems to be stuck in some kind of pervy hero worship mode, he’ll probably take it as a compliment.

“Oh, god, you’re so tight. So fuckin’ tight.”

He groans into the side of the boy’s neck, mouthing and licking against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat, and he knows it’s probably killing him not to have any sort of touch on his cock, which is almost red, hard and curving up against his slim stomach, and Percival can almost count his ribs without even trying.

God, this kid needs a decent meal.

It’s gonna be steak and potatoes for lunch, or early dinner, he decides, and the boy better not argue about it.

He was right. He’s so close.

He’s barely an inch from home inside the boy’s vise-like ass, and Credence hasn’t let out so much as a whimper, he looks to see the boy biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut, and throat bobbing.

“You’re so pretty. Dirty pretty boy.”

He leans down to add another mark to the boy’s chest, way out of sight unless he’s naked in front of anyone else, he fucking better not be, ever, and lets himself come with a moan, muffled into Credence’s skin.

He rests his forehead against the boy’s shoulder, catching his breath, and carefully pulls out of him, gripping the boy’s trembling thighs off and on to distract from any discomfort.

“You all righ’?”

Credence nods, somewhat dazed, he’d guess, probably from pain and arousal and the fact he’s silently begging to come with those dark eyes when they open and focus on him doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Okay. Good.”

He reaches over to the bedside table for the key to the cuffs and undoes them easily, tossing them aside in favor of pressing his lips to the red marks on the boy’s wrists.

“Can I-?” He bites his lip, and his eyes clearly beg.

Percival smirks,

“I suppose.”

“That was amazing.”

Percival chuckles,

“You’ve really never done that before?”

Blink-blink, damn the boy has long lashes.

He wonders what he’d look like with a touch of black liner, maybe some lipstick.

Ugh.

Not a good line of thought.

“No. Never.”

He glances down to Credence’s cock, still red and leaking on his chest, and the boy does the same, before his cheeks flush,

“So um, you didn’t spank me.”

Percival groans,

“Fuck you’re right. How could I forget? Turn over, and don’t move, I don’t wanna cuff you so long you have marks.”

Credence nods, and hurries to comply, throat bobbing and eyes flashing.

God this kid.

This kid is so damn kinky, and he loves it.

Bony ass in the air, cock pressed against Percival’s thigh and legs splayed down the bed, Credence glances over his shoulder, almost bashful at him,

“Ready Officer… whenever you are.”

A swift smack to his ass wipes off that smug grin, and Percival can actually feel the boy rutting against him.

“I feel like you enjoy this too much…”

The boy just shrugs and Percival brings his hand down again, on the other cheek.

“Ungh.”

Another two slaps and the boy is practically writhing atop him, and he’s almost worried he’ll come like this, before he can surprise him with the blowjob his mouth is watering for.

“Hold still dammit.”

He says, praying the boy will listen, and control his fucking squirmy self.

One final smack, centered over his ass, and the boy actually manages to hold still, but Percival sees his hands fisted in the sheets, and knows that probably helped.

“Okay, up.”

Credence gets to his feet, shaky legged like a newborn colt, and Percival tries not to moan at the sight of his cock, still hard and looking positively painful.

“Now what, Officer?”

Credence looks no less enthused, and Percival strides towards the bathroom,

“Follow me.”

*

Credence watches as the man starts up the shower and opens the door to step inside and he wonders what he’s supposed to do.

Watch?

Touch himself?

“I said… follow me.”

Credence blinks, and realizes the man is talking about the shower too.

He shivers slightly and then does as he’s told. The water is lukewarm and stings slightly on his ass, where he can almost feel the imprint of the man’s hand.

But god, it felt amazing.

He was so close to coming he thought maybe, just maybe, if he stood directly under the shower head, the water could bring him off.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a treat.”

Mister Graves’ hand was on his face, stroking his cheek, and he bit his lip to keep from leaning into it, feeling the man’s fingers rise to card through his hair, and yank his head back just so the man could kiss him roughly.

His eyes start to fall closed and then the man is pulling away, breaking the kiss, and he tries not to pout.

It’s not until there’s a touch on his cock, a blissful, warm and wet touch that he opens his eyes to find Mister Graves kneeling in front of him, mouthing on his cock.

“Holy shit.”

The man pulls back; just seconds from making him come, and puts a finger to his lips.

“Shh-hh.”

Credence just stares instead.

The man pushes his mouth back on his cock, and he fights to keep his hips still, but then there’s big hands gripping the back of his thighs and fingers dangerously close to his raw ass, and he thinks, mindlessly, that they’re there to ensure he doesn’t slip.

He comes with a strangled gasp about ten seconds later, with Mister Graves’ lips taut around his shaft, and a hint of teeth against his highly sensitive skin.

The man pulls back to sit on his heels and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth, for show, Credence guesses, and then smirks up at him.

“You barely lasted longer than me. You’re such a cock slut, aren’t you?”

Credence is nodding before he knows what he’s doing, and when the man’s back on his feet, he leans into him, though the water is slightly cold.

He can’t go home like this. Not with wet hair on a sunny day.

“Come on baby. Let’s get you dried off.”

Mister Graves is perfect.

That’s all he can think.

The man helps him get dressed, and ushers him downstairs into the kitchen, making him drink a whole big glass of cool water, ‘to keep hydrated’ and starts cooking them an early dinner.

“I won’t be able to do this sort of thing very much. But maybe we could try to make it a thing. Sunday afternoons. Or Saturday nights. If you want.”

Credence is nodding so hard it makes his head hurt, and Mister Graves is grinning,

“Okay there?”

“Yes. Please.”

No more staring through windows wondering what the man feels like, tastes like, and sounds like when he comes.

Now he knows.

Mister Graves is all his.

He always gets what he wants.

*

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
